


you can call me

by fated_addiction



Category: GOT7, K-pop, KARA (Band), Korean Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-13 02:15:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5690767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fated_addiction/pseuds/fated_addiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Youngji says: "I am not upset."</i>
</p><p> </p><p>It's a situation. Youngji tries her best. And Jackson tries to confess. Because he's an idiot, of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you can call me

Youngji says: "I am not upset."

She is a month into rumors, speculation, and about ninety other different reactions to KARA's potential, maybe immediate disbandment. But she doesn't want to talk about it. Like at all.

Instead, she sits across from her sister in a coffee shop that isn't their parents, alternating drinks and watching her sister pour diligently over her sheet music. Occasionally she looks up, studies her, then smiles worriedly. It's a sister thing.

She also pushes her phone forward, next to Youngji's coffee, just as it starts to light up. So far the calls have come with some kind of order: Jackson, Seulgi, Hara, Hara again, Jackson and Bambam as a pair, Amber and Seulgi, Seulgi ("Answer the damn phone," she hisses and is almost convincing, "or I'll come find you and _make_ you talk about your feelings!"), and then Jackson again. She appreciates it. Sure, okay, maybe it's nice that they're thinking about her.

"I am not upset," she repeats, picking up her coffee and not her phone.

"Sure," her sister says.

Youngji sighs. 

"You don't have to answer your phone." Her sister smiles at her. She stops writing, propping her chin against her hand. "You might want to let them know you're alive... Jackson's already called me even though I told him you're fine."

"Which I am," Youngji says dryly.

Her sister shrugs. "Just saying. You might want to put the guy out of his misery."

The thing is that she should, you know, reassure everyone that she's all right. She knows the other girls, no matter how many times she's gone and said it, worry about her, worry about what's going to happen to her given their company track record with the members of their group, past and otherwise. She knows that she's going to be okay. She knows that she hasn't worked this hard to quit now.

But it's just so frustrating, she thinks. She turns her gaze to the window, rubbing her eyes. It's frustrating to think that she's in this place, yet again, wondering just how deep the uncertainty of the future is going to go this time. She believes in signs. She always has.

Her phone stops vibrating against the table and she picks it up, pressing it to her ear.

" _Yah_ ," Jackson shouts over voicemail and she laughs, a giggle bubbling against her hand. " _Don't make me come and find you. Because I will and you know I will and I will sit there until you're ready to talk about your feelings and you know, YOU KNOW, that I am the worst person when it comes to talking about feelings. But I will do it for you. So pick up your damn phone, Youngji. Pick. It. Up._ "

She should. But there is a meeting at the company tomorrow, the fourth of the week. She needs a clear head.

It's barely the new year.

 

 

 

 

 

Youngji calls Seulgi. It's usually Jackson that is her first call but she needs to talk to someone that isn't Jackson and isn't Hara or any of her other members. There is a university application sitting on her bed. It's from her mother. There's a contract law book sitting right next to it; it's from her sister and her father, the latter probably hoping to support her mother's suggestion.

"Are you okay," Seulgi asks, slowly, and then pauses to close a door. The worry in her voice is quiet. "You haven't said anything to anyone," she says, "and it's driving me up the wall because you usually --"

"I just don't know what to say," Youngji interjects. "I feel like if I say something, it's not going to be what people want to hear... and then what?"

"You could always come to my company," Seulgi offers lightly and Youngji snorts, face warm. "I'd get lost," she says gently, at the same time. 

She's already thought of practical solutions, and then practical solutions to those solutions; it's what she does. She had three plans for herself had KARA not worked out, none of them having anything to do with things that she wanted but more so as things she could attain.

"I'm also under contract," Youngji says, rubbing her eyes. She moves to sit on her bed, dropping back to her pillows. "The logistics are a little different for me. I've been reading and trying to understand how that works too."

Seulgi sighs. "You sound tired."

Youngji shrugs as if she could see it. "I feel like people are expecting me to react a certain way and, I don't know, it just ..." she stops, closing her eyes, "I don't know what to say."

"Nothing," Seulgi says firmly. "You don't need to say anything. You just need to be you." Someone calls her name on the other line and Seulgi laughs breathlessly, signaling that she probably has to get back. "But," her friend finishes, "just don't hide -- that's the part I don't like." Then she laughs again. "And call Jackson. Because he's now irritating me too."

Youngji laughs. "Okay."

They hang up with promises of lunch. Which is like a monthly ritual, depending on schedules and what not. Seulgi is a friend she never expected, but continues to be grateful for. We could be sisters, she always says. It makes her a little sad that she has to think of herself outside of these relationships she's formed.

"Ugh," she groans, grabbing her pillow and covering her face. " _Ugh_."

She makes another muffled sound, steeling herself for the next phone call she has to make. She should probably call Hara at some point too, she thinks, or her eonni is going to kill her. Seriously.

But first she picks up her phone, scrolls through her contacts twice, even though she doesn't need to, and then finds Jackson's number. She presses 'call' and then flips, resting on her stomach and staring at the posters on her wall.

He answers on the third ring.

"I'm going to kill you," he greets.

Youngji laughs. "You could try." She tucks a few strands of hair behind her ear. "I don't think you'd get very far."

"Probably not," he agrees. "What are you doing later tonight?"

"Cooking with my mom," she answers. "Then I have a call with the company."

Jackson is dismissive. "Good," he says. "My flight is in at eleven. Plenty of time for you to digest dinner. We'll run and then I'll buy you ice cream or something."

"Defeats the purpose of a run," she argues.

He snorts. "Don't be a brat."

He hangs up, of course, and that's that. She knows that he's going to hold her to it. Because that's what they do. So she sits up, changes into running closes, and no sooner than she grabs her sneakers for later, her phone buzzes with an address and a reminder for her.

_don't be late_

There are butterflies in her stomach. Like always.

 

 

 

 

 

The park by her house is well-lit. Seulgi has been making her watch a lot of crime dramas, much to her chagrin, so late night runs, alone or with another friend, still kind of freak her out because, you know, what if she finds a body or something.

She waits for Jackson by the swings, pushing off lazily with her legs and craning her neck back. It's not too cold, which is nice, and her mother is just happy that she's not working and worrying or being home and worrying since they are both interchangeable at best.

But Youngji does see Jackson first, watches as he jumps out of a van over the sidewalk. She recognizes GOT7's manager and waves a little, eyeing Jackson warily as he bounds over to the swings and her. He tosses a bag to the side and then drops his hands over his hips, watching her.

"You're upset," he says.

"I'm not." She slows the swing underneath her, checking her watch. "It's eleven- _oh_ -one, dummy."

Jackson ignores her. "You're making that face." He moves easily, stepping in between her legs. His fingers tuck at her chin. "You only make that face when you're upset."

"I do _not_ ," she argues. Or mumbles. It doesn't matter because he's still watching her with smug amusement and worry. She feels a little guilty. "And anyway, if I were upset would I be here? No."

"Yes," he counters. "You can't say no to me."

Youngji rolls her eyes.

He steps around her and grabs the ropes of the swing, pulling her back gently. He starts to push her.

"I got worried when Hara called me."

Youngji balks. Freezes a little even. It's just that Jackson's voice goes quiet and serious and it unnerves her just a little.

"She's worried about you," he murmurs.

"I know," she says. Her legs swing forward and she tilts her head back again, meeting his gaze. "I told her not to be. The eonnis need to do what's best for them."

"But who's looking out for you," he half-asks. Jackson frowns too.

"Me," she answers. She shrugs, mouth twisting. "Like always."

There's nothing sharp behind those words, but Jackson still looks disappointed. He grabs the swing ropes and pulls her to a stop, then walking around to face her. He grabs her hand and pulls her to stand, lacing their fingers together.

"I don't want to run," she mumbles, trying to ignore how her throat dries suddenly, tightly, and she can't look anywhere else. She doesn't know how to hide behind these reactions; they just are.

"We'll walk," he compromises. He squeezes her fingers and doesn't let go. "At the very least," he says. "Since you were screening my calls and whatever."

Youngji rolls her eyes.

She obeys though, lets him hold her hand, finds herself breathing and evening out her nerves too. He pulls her behind him and then, once on the path and his backpack settled behind him, tucks their hands into his jacket pocket.

They're quiet for a little bit. The streetlights sort of waiver and follow. It feels a little colder away from the swings. Her cheeks are flushed and she wishes she brought a scarf after all, but reminds herself she's not really thinking of these things.

Finally, they pass another couple, then a guy running in the opposite direction with his headphones and a towel wrapped around his jacket and his neck.

Jackson exaggerates through a sigh.

"I don't know what to say," he confesses. "And that bothers me. Because you're worried and I know you'll never actually say that you are, but I don't know how else to not worry about you being worried."

Her face flushes. Youngji turns her head and sighs, trying to hide. 

"You're going to give me a headache," she says.

He rolls his eyes. "I'm trying to be romantic here."

She snorts. "Why?"

"Because someone needs to say something romantic to you every once in awhile," he shoots back which, by the way, makes NO sense to her at all. Her eyes narrow and he flushes a little, trying to recover from whatever he's trying to say. "Look," he tells her, and he's serious, which makes the whole thing even weirder. "I just don't like to see you sad. It makes me a little crazy. Like not good crazy."

Her eyes narrow. "Is this like the time you told me that I was pretty by telling me that I was ugly?"

"Ugh," he groans. "That's not what I meant!"

Youngji starts to laugh. And laugh. And laugh some more because actually, somehow, it's really funny. It's a memory that she keeps close to herself because they've always only ever been teetering over the line between friends and not friends, something that it's a lot more terrifying than actually dating. She'd even venture so far as to say that she loves Jackson, like really loves Jackson, and not in the kind of way that feels platonic. It's the kind of love that fits itself in your life forever, that without it everything seems a little backwards, a little grayer, and with nothing else outside of it.

Her laughter starts to die though, sobering into a smile and then a thin, tired line as she sighs and turns her head into his shoulder.

"Sorry," she says, but it's muffled against his jacket. Her eyes close for a second. "I know what you mean," she says.

His fingers brush into her hair. He tugs a little at her braid. 

"It's nice to hear you laugh." Jackson's smile is in his voice. "Like that," he adds.

"Sometimes you're funny," she quips.

"Don't be stupid," he says. "I'm funny all the time."

She laughs again and she thinks it may be a moment, not the right one, because he's looking at her and she can read right through him: he is thinking the same thing. She's still a little self-conscious, maybe even a little flustered, but knows that she doesn't really want to say anything right now because, sometimes, timing is everything.

They walk around the park twice. They loop around the swings too.

Somewhere deep inside of her, she admits it. She's a little worried.

 

 

 

 

 

Youngji is really good at people. It's a six sense in the same way psychics are good with dead people, grandmas know when you're about to do something stupid, and, apparently according to their matchmaker neighbor, makes Youngji a desirable marriage candidate if nothing else works out. None of this is anything she wants to hear, let alone think about, going in and out of her fourth or fifth meeting at the company, sitting through negotiations because she is a member, and have her eonnis feel guilty about something they shouldn't feel guilty about.

"You need to be worried about you," she tells Hara, very nearly ready to burst. There are tears in the back of her throat and Gyuri comes around behind her, slipping an arm around her waist. "Seriously." She's brave. "I don't want you to not move forward because of me. I want you guys to be happy."

Hara's eyes are big, wide, and round with worry. It's eating her alive and Youngji feels so, so guilty without even allowing herself any kind of rationality. She cups the older girl's face and kisses her forehead. "Don't cry," she says and Gyuri interjects too. "Seriously," their leader says. "If you two cry, I'm done and gone. And there's no chocolate anywhere."

They all laugh and that's fine, but Youngji feels the knots in the pit of her stomach and she knows she needs to get out. Seugyeon appears on cue, dragging all of them into a hug because, of course, it doesn't mean that the four of them aren't going to leave each other's lives. At least, this is what she tells herself.

She still hides the knots in her belly until they all break for separate meetings. Youngji has a schedule later, so she moves to sit in the practice room and digs out the book that her dad gave her and the university application from her mom. She goes through the list in her head, kind of like a choose your own ending: you'd make a great doctor, a great lawyer, and you know, remember that time you wanted to teach too? You'd be an amazing teacher.

The lumps in her throat are starting to grow though and she digs into her bag for her headphones, but can't find them and it's the _worst_ because the silence in the practice room is more than sort of deafening and she hates it. She finds a pen instead and scribbles her name onto the top of the application without thinking, then stops and almost loses it because the silence makes everything worse.

Behind her though, the door snaps open and she has to steel herself because if her eonnis are back, no crying. She doesn't want to go through any conversation right now.

It's just that Jackson walks through the door.

"Hey --" his face falls and hers crumples and no, no, _no_ , she claps her hand over her mouth, curls her legs underneath her and dumb, dumb, ugh she's started to cry. He marches over to her, drops down to the floor and half gathers her into his arms. "Nope," he says. "This is a big fat pile of nope. You are not allowed to cry."

Her fingers fist into his shirt. "I'm _not_ doing this on purpose, idiot," she breathes, and it sounds more like: "NOPE." She rubs her face into his neck and tries to breathe. "You aren't supposed to be here," she manages.

Everything feels A LOT real right now, spiraling out of control and away from the tips of her fingers. She hates that she's crying right now. She hates that she's confused. She hates that she's angry at herself the most because she's always been stronger than this, she's always been able to walk through bigger things: nearly not making it, comeback anxiety, and anti-fans. She feels like she's proving everything that's wrong with her and coupled with everything that she's worried about, she feels like she's letting people down. And that, right there, is the worst feeling of all.

"Stop crying," Jackson says gently, his fingers sinking into her hair. His breath catches. "Seriously. I feel like I have to go and beat someone up when you cry."

"Whatever." Her breathing trembles. "You wouldn't do it. Your mom would kill you."

"Not when I tell her that you were crying," he retorts. "Then she would have told me I was being a good boyfriend."

Youngji just blinks.

He pulls back, looking down at her, a little sheepish, a little guilty. Her eyes narrow and he shrugs and she can't tell if this is a joke or a joke to make her feel better, neither of which are working -- an A for effort?

"You look mad," he says.

"I'm not mad," she answers automatically. She blinks. "When did we decide this?"

"Right now." Her heart is racing and Jackson grins a little. "Well," he says. "About an hour ago. I was talking to Jaebum hyung and he was like bro, BRO you should shut up and be a man about it... so I am?"

She snorts. "Not convincing enough."

"It's true!" He insists. Youngji wants to kick him in the shins. "You're not crying anymore," he mumbles.

"No," she says dryly. "I'm not," she says too, rubbing her eyes. Her head is spinning. "But I don't think I can handle what you're about to say because you're talking really vaguely and I wish people would just come out and say what they're thinking because right now all I could use is a little --"

Jackson grabs her by the chin and kisses her.

It's not unwelcome, no, no, not even kind of, but it feels like it's come completely out of the blue because she's never thought of any of this beyond well, really they're comfortable being just friends. It takes her a second to adjust to his mouth though and she feels herself reacting, actually reacting, her lips parting, a little sigh pressing into his tongue, and oh _god_ , he's really kissing her right now.

Like really, _really_ kissing her too. To the point where her eyes start to flutter close, her heart has already burst out of her chest, and she sinks halfway into his lap. She hasn't let go of his shirt she'll realize in a little bit, maybe a lot later, and her hands pull him closer so she can crane her neck comfortably to meet him halfway.

Youngji remembers to breathe.

Everything seems to fall into place after that. Her legs drape over his lap and she does not care, not even a little bit, that anyone from her company could walk in and see them this way because hey, well, they owe her that much.

She still punches Jackson in the chest though.

His mouth drops from hers and he falls back, catching himself on one hand. She remains on his lap.

"Hey!" His eyes are narrowed. "What gives?"

"That was for kissing me," she declares. Then smirks. She's still a little breathless. "And then not warning me."

"I was trying to be romantic," he insists, glaring. "You're not being fair."

"No," she shrugs. Youngji shifts and leans in, brushing her mouth against his nose. There's a lot to talk about, she thinks. It's a conversation she's not ready to have yet, she thinks too. She smiles a little. "But you knew I was probably going to hit you."

Jackson laughs a little. "Yeah, well. Still."

She could say a lot of things about everything; about how she would really like him to kiss her again, how she needed this and he knew and how she may just love him a little more for that too. She could talk about timing and they'll probably argue about that at some point.

But the truth is much simpler and she feels her shoulders begin to relax, her smile feels a little more genuine, and she touches his face, brushing her fingers against the lines of his forehead.

"Thank you," she says quietly.

He shrugs. "Whatever, man." He's smiling at her too. "Just don't hit me again," he adds.

Youngji shrugs. "Don't be stupid then." Her fingers touch his mouth and she breathes. "Because then I'll have to anyway."

She's grateful, of course. 

Jackson is always consistent as it is.


End file.
